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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26752795">Practice</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artistic_Gamer/pseuds/Artistic_Gamer'>Artistic_Gamer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Izuku haunts class 1-A [32]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>BnHA, Boku no Hero Academia, My Hero Academia, mha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ghost!Iida, Ghost!Izuku, Iida’s turn to adjust to things, Midoriya haunts 1-A, Midoriya takes Bakugo’s advice, Other, as usual, class 1-A in general - Freeform, he’ll have his breakdown soon but not yet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:21:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,429</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26752795</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artistic_Gamer/pseuds/Artistic_Gamer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Iida contemplates on how different things are.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead &amp; Iida Tenya, Iida Tenya &amp; Class 1-A, Iida Tenya &amp; Midoriya Izuku</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Izuku haunts class 1-A [32]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553269</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>65</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>973</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Practice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>happy Thursday!! ٩( ᐛ )و Iida gets some time to shine</p><p>enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Staying after school wasn’t a new concept for Tenya. Being Class President had its list of responsibilities, and he would find himself staying an hour or two after everyone else had left finishing that list up. The empty classroom would be blissfully still, silent, except for the occasional mutter or tapping from Midoriya, and even that had its own rhythm to it. Soothing in its own right. Light would filter in through the tall windows while he rustled papers, tidied up, fixed some notes that looked a bit sloppy to give to Uraraka later - she had asked for them in a rush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As a ghost, the empty classroom felt different, like it was missing something important. Not being able to interact with his classmates during class and missing out on study sessions and lunches hit him particularly hard. No one saw him, no one heard him if he spoke, except Midoriya, and as thankful as he was for that...Midoriya wasn’t the person he was trying to talk to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Midoriya was the opposite. No one struggled finding where he was, or hearing him, or even feeling him if Midoriya puffed up his cheeks and focused hard enough. Even so, he couldn’t find it in himself to feel angry or jealous. Not only did Midoriya go out of his way to be Tenya’s hands and presence, just looking at Midoriya had any sort of negative feelings leaving faster than any self-soothing thought he could come up with. The little guy was a mess of broken limbs half the time, struggling to get himself to cooperate with the movements he wanted to make. Blood lingered at the edges of him, whispering a different kind of tragedy to his own, and he only felt sympathy for what Midoriya was left with. Tenya may have died - still such a strange thought to him - but at least what was left behind was a functional body and mind. He could work with that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, he always had Aizawa. His teacher was the constant in his new life, and he did his best to stick by Aizawa as much as he could get away with. Floating next to him to lunch, sticking close when Midoriya wasn’t guiding him, and even teacher conferences, when Midoriya could convince him to intrude at least. He didn’t usually stay long,  briefly scolding a giggling Midoriya for listening in and trying not to smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pain of death was with him all the time. Each gash in his skin burned hot, stretched when he moved, bruises protesting whenever he shifted a bit too quickly. Every breath in was the equivalent of inhaling nails. Although he assumed he didn’t need to breathe anymore, he couldn’t drop such a human habit, just like he assumed Midoriya couldn’t. He’d had to drop a lot of habits that he mourned over for days - opening doors and simple touch being the main ones - so if he had to suffer every moment to hold onto his last link of humanity, then so be it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Each trial and tribulation he had to fight through, mourn over, he couldn’t help but wonder what Midoriya’s time had been like. How had he figured out how to speak? How to be felt? Through trial and error he was sure, but how long had it actually taken? What habits had he given up and what did he still cling to? What was it like, not being seen or heard for however long he’d been trapped here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had his questions, but he was too afraid to ask. Even as a ghost, he knew that would be crossing a line that Midoriya wouldn’t appreciate, to put it lightly. Maybe even be a step too far in a direction he couldn’t come back from, couldn’t take back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first few days after his death were - in Tenya’s humble opinion - the worst. Midoriya was taking it even harder than he was, that much was clear, and he had to juggle his own grief with making sure Midoriya was okay. It was a good distraction in the end, but Tenya wished he had Midoriya’s giggles instead of his tears. The poor kid seemed to have a never ending well of them, droplets of regret and helplessness, mixed with blood and pain and rattling breaths that Tenya did his best to soothe and clean up. It wasn’t hard to keep an eye on him since Midoriya refused to leave a five inch radius of his person, preferring to cling to his torso with twisted arms and teary eyes. It made Tenya think of the brief moment in the hospital room. He got nauseous just thinking about it. He never wanted to see Midoriya that upset again, because of him or anyone else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Midoriya never left him alone, and he was extremely grateful for it. Not even All Might could chase him off in the beginning, he would only squeeze his eyes shut and hold onto Tenya’s torso tighter. A quiet little package of sorrow attached to his stomach. Thankfully, to Tenya’s immense relief, the more he acted calm and natural about it all the more Midoriya seemed to take things in stride as well. He began to talk again, interact with him and the class, and something felt odd yet very satisfying about finally hearing what Midoriya truly sounded like, without his words being corrupted by the barrier of the living and the dead or through the EMF’s fuzzy static. He sounded as young as he looked, and he found that he was quickly growing protective and watchful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew if Tensei could see him he’d call him a helicopter mom with a teasing glint in his eye, without a doubt, but he just couldn’t help it. Mentally, he was sure Midoriya was much older - maybe as old as they were - but it was hard to keep in mind when he looked at the kid. His injuries didn’t help either, and he struggled with finding a balance of coddling Midoriya and giving him space, especially when Midoriya couldn’t get his arms and hands to cooperate. At least Aizawa seemed relieved Midoriya was finally getting help. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It helped, of course, that it was taking a burden off of Aizawa’s already loaded shoulders. The longer he spent as a ghost, the more he learned how to listen, and he’d heard from other teachers how strung out Aizawa had been lately. Saw how closely Aizawa watched Midoriya - even in a safe setting like their classroom - so he took it upon himself to watch over the little ghost. Not just for his own sake, but to help out his teacher in the only way he could anymore, at least for now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was easy to do anyway. Midoriya wasn’t poor company, curious and talkative and mischievous, and he only grew more animated as the days passed by. During class he talked to Tenya quietly, cautious of his voice as a distraction, tapping the desks of students who could sense him better than others - Bakugo being one of them - and hovering over the ones who were the worst at it. They tried different methods of getting his classmates’ attention, from Tenya tapping their shoulder - and phasing through it - to focusing on pushing his presence out and forward. Midoriya hovered around Bakugo’s friend group and poked them repeatedly, and Tenya would’ve scolded him for it if Midoriya hadn’t been explaining how he was making himself physical.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He followed Midoriya around during lunch as they practiced floating through walls, ceilings, doors, anything and everything. He learned how to better control his body now that he was floating in the air, not walking on solid ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After school was the most freedom they had. The building was theirs to do as they wished, and although at first Tenya was reluctant to intrude in others’ spaces, Midoriya insisted it would be good practice and they wouldn’t touch anything. He had given in, and unsteadily followed Midoriya’s much more even speed. Sometimes they stayed in the classroom to practice picking things up, and he might be bad at it but he knew it was just a matter of practice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes they stayed in the room after school just talking, about anything and everything. How they were both feeling about what had happened and how they were adjusting, what to do to improve their practice, his classmates, even just casual conversations. It was a different kind of homey feeling than he was used to, but still a feeling he cherished.</span>
</p><p>
<span>He realized the classroom wasn’t missing something anymore.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>we got one more update with some shenanigans with the IPad, a short one, then we’re in for some confrontation! who or why?? stay tuned (•̀ᴗ•́)و </p><p>stay safe everyone!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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